The Nightmare
by jemisard
Summary: Aziraphale has a nightmare. Crowley really doesn't want to know. Fluff.


Aziraphale was having a nightmare.

At the time it didn't feel like a nightmare. He remembered going to sleep, something Crowley highly recommended, and then he had started being plagued by visions. Visions of said demon being slaughtered in the most horrible ways.

He kept seeing that beloved face twisted in anguish as demons played with him in the depths of hell, as tortures that Aziraphale didn't even know he knew of were committed upon Crowley's helpless body.

It was a terrible feeling, seeing this suffering. Being helpless as the demon screamed for Aziraphale to help him, to go before he was caught, screaming like nothing ever should.

When Aziraphale woke up, he heard screaming, and it took a few moments to realise it was his own voice, not Crowley's.

Aziraphale sat up in bed and wiped at his eyes. His breathing was hard, even though he had no need of breathing, and he was covered in a cold sweat.

It was so completely unnatural.

He closed his eyes, trying not to recall the images, the screams, of his nightmare. He shivered and shook his head, banishing the thoughts.

"Crowley's fine. He'll be in bed, down the hall, asleep and comfortable." The angel told himself out loud. "He'd laugh himself stupid if he knew abut this."

Fears aside, Aziraphale lay down again, tucking the blanket under his chin and closing his eyes to get more sleep.

He lay there and felt sickness rise in him. Crowley's scream echoed in his head, body in anguish.

Aziraphale rolled over and closed his eyes again.

That voice screaming for him to help, begging him to make the pain end.

What if it was real? What if Crowley had been taken in the night?

Aziraphale sat up in bed, face tight with worry. He ran his hands through his hair, drawing his knees to his chest.

What if Crowley was gone? Or lying in his bed, crippled by demonic pain? What if they were coming now?

Aziraphale leapt from bed, nightshirt flapping around him as he ran down the hall. The wooden door of Crowley's bedroom loomed ahead, sinister and dark. The angel gestured to it, it opened before him and he ran in, the room in deep darkness.

"Crowley!"

There was a moan and the lamp was flicked on. Sleepy eyes, golden yellow and hooded, stared at him with confusion. "Aziraphale?"

The angel looked around. In the light, the room didn't seem so sinister. It seemed kind of normal. The king sized bed with its four posts was grand and warm, Crowley stared from beneath the rumpled covers, black hair a complete disarray, completely alive and not in pain.

"Angel?"

Aziraphale blushed slightly. Now he was here, he felt of kind of silly for letting the nightmare get to him so badly. It had seemed so real at the time.

"I, uh, had a nightmare."

Crowley rolled his eyes and lay back down in his pillows, reaching for the lamp. "Good night, angel."

"Can I sleep with you?"

The words were out before the angel had time to think about it. He wanted to curl up in here and feel Crowley, alive and well, next to him.

Crowley stared at him in total disbelief for a moment. "You're kidding me."

"Please?" He looked with begging eyes, willing Crowley to let him into the bed.

"Go to bed, angel," the demon muttered. "Sleep it off."

"I can't sleep." He bounced on the balls of his feet, staring down at his sock covered toes. "Please, Crowley?"

"No. Go to bed, Aziraphale. It was a nightmare, it's not real." The demon clicked off the light. "Good night."

Aziraphale stood there for a moment longer. It seemed so much worse in the dark. He whimpered slightly and shuffled on his feet, not sure where to go. He didn't want to go back to his room, he wanted to make sure Crowley wasn't going to disappear.

"Crowley?"

He heard the sigh. "Yes, angel?"

"It was a really horrible nightmare. You were in hell."

"That's where I come from, Aziraphale. Being a demon and all. Now go to bed." The tone was weary more than commanding.

"You were being tortured. I thought they had taken you," he sniffed slightly as irrational fear hit him again. "I don't want you to be tortured."

There was another sigh and the lamp went on again. Crowley sat up in bed and stared at the angel, who shuffled his feet and stared with watery blue eyes.

"You're trying to get sympathy from a demon, Aziraphale."

Crowley didn't sound very mean just then.

"You're not just any demon though. You're Crowley. You're my friend."

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"You're my demon."

Crowley knew he had lost as a tear fell from Aziraphale's eye and rolled down his cheek. "Don't cry, angel." He said gruffly. He moved over a little and patted the bed. "C'mon, get in. Don't think I'd do this for anyone else in Creation. I just can't sleep with you crying in my room."

The angel beamed happily and crawled into the bed, promptly going over Crowley to snuggle on the far side of the bed. "I won't hog the covers."

"Fine, just go to sleep. I'm only doing this so I can get a decent night's sleep."

He turned out the light, but he could still feel the angel's happy smile. "And don't you dare think about snuggling."

"Okay, Crowley." A soft yawn was heard. "Thank you."

Crowley lay back down and sighed as he heard soft snores from the angel. "You daft bugger."

His only reply was an arm thrown over his chest as Aziraphale snuggled close.


End file.
